Common error.

One great denomination.

Disastrous results.

form in which Christianity embodies itself must change too. It is the spirit alone that remains stationary and common in all.

And yet nine-tenths of nominal Christians, all over the world, are firmly believing and sincerely wishing, that their own denomination may extend and swallow up the rest, and become universal. But let us consider a moment, what would be the result, if such were the case, That one universal denomination would soon have leaders. It might, or might not be so constituted, as to have them in name and office, but it certainly would have them in reality. Grant, if you please, that this first set of leaders are really humble, devoted, honest Christians; what sort of men would be ambitiously looking up to their posts, and begin to struggle and crowd for the succession? Why there can be no moral effect more certain, than that in such a case, four or five gen erations would place worldly, selfish, ambitious men at the head of the religious interests of the world! We have had one terrible experiment of the effects of one great denomination, to illustrate this reasoning. God grant that the dark day may never come again.

It was the spirit of Christianity only that our Savior urged. He proclaimed forgiveness to all who would. abandon their sins, and return to God, and keep the great moral law, which had been enacted for the general happiness. He proclaimed the fact that forgiveness was sure, and thus opened the door of hope to every man; but he did not say much about the dark path of sorrow and suffering which he should himself have to tread, in

order to open the way. It seems as if, with the delicacy

which always characterizes ardent love, he would not inform men of the sufferings he was about to bear for them. He told them they might be forgiven, but he never reminded them of their obligations to him for pur

Christ's sufferings.

Human nature.

The way to study it.

chasing their pardon. Even his disciples, till they came to see him die, had no conception of his love. They learned it at last however. They saw him suffer and die, and inspiration from above explained to them something about the influence of his death. They had enjoyed its benefits long before, in peace with God, forgiveness of sin, and hope of heaven; but now for the first time, they understood how those benefits were procured. It is hard to tell which touches our gratitude most sensibly; the ardent love which led him to do what he did, or the delicacy with which he refrained from speaking of it, to those who were to reap its fruits. He did all he could to save men, and then, in his interviews with them, spent his time in trying to persuade them to consent to be saved. His sufferings he left to tell their own story.

CHAPTER IV.

HUMAN NATURE,

OR THE SAVIOR'S RECEPTION AMONG MANKIND.

"We will not have this man to reign over us."

In the last chapter we considered our Savior simply as a Teacher; hereafter we shall have occasion to look at him more particularly as a sufferer. In the meantime, we must devote a few pages to considering the reception, which the principles of duty he inculcated meet with among men.

If

This brings us at once to the study of human nature; and the way to study human nature, is to look at it as it exhibits itself in the actual conduct of mankind. we examine it thus, we shall find it presenting itself in a great many alluring aspects Look, for instance,

The village.

Morning.

The wife and mother

at any of those quiet villages which may be found by thousands in every christian land. When day dawns, the gray light looks into the windows of a hundred dwellings, where honest industry has been enjoying repose. The population is grouped into families, according to the arrangement which God has made, and while the eastern sky reddens and glows by the reflection of the approaching sun, there is, in every dwelling, a mother, actively engaged in providing for the morning wants of the household which God has committed to her care. There is a tie around her heart, binding her to her husband, her children, her home, and to all the domestic duties which devolve upon her. These duties she goes on to discharge, though they are ever renewed and ever the same. She does it day after day,- three hundred and sixty-five times this year, and as many more the next, and the next, perhaps for half a century. What patience! What persevering industry! and all, not for herself, but for others.

At the proper time, all the families of the village assemble, each in its own quiet home, to receive their food. The breakfast hour for one, is the breakfast hour for all. Each conforms to the customs of the others, with as much regularity as if these customs were enforced by penal laws. Every one is at liberty, and yet, in all the important arrangements of life, they all agree. And how is this agreement produced? By the regard which every one has for the opinions and feelings of the rest; a feeling which we cannot but look upon with pleasure; and it reigns in all human communities, and has almost boundless power in regulating established customs, and preserving the order of society.

We next see our villagers going forth to their respective labors. You will observe them issuing from their various dwellings, and repairing to their work, with as much regularity as if on a preconcerted signal The

Industry.

Benevolence.

Exceptions rare.

mechanics go to their shops, the tradesman to his store, and the farmers to their fields; and though there may be here and there an exception, they continue their toil as industriously as if their motions were watched, and all their actions controlled by masters, who had the right and the power to exact from them a stated daily task. And this course of daily active industry is persevered in through life, and all the means of comfort and enjoyment, which it procures, are frugally husbanded. Sickness, death, calamity, may produce an occasional interruption, and even paralyze, for a time, all interest in worldly pursuits and duties; but the elastic spirit rises again, when the severity of pressure is removed, and again finds occupation and enjoyment in its daily routine of toil.

The moral beauty of it all consists in the fact, that each man labors thus industriously, day after day, and year after year, not mainly for himself, but for others. Each has, upon an average, four or five, who are dependants upon him, and it is for them mainly, and not for himself, that he confines himself so constantly to his daily toil.

There may be exceptions. Here and there one is idle and dissolute, leaving the inmates of his wretched home, to mourn the guilt of the husband and father, and to feel its bitter consequences. But it is only here and there one; and in almost every such case, the ills which the sufferers would otherwise have to bear, are very much alleviated by the assistance of neighbors, who cannot well enjoy their own comforts at their own homes, until they have relieved the pressure of want that is so near them. The great majority however are faithful to their trust; held to duty, not by compulsion, nor by fear of penalty, but by a tie which God has fastened round the heart, and whose control men love to obey. This is human nature

The reader may perhaps say that there is no virtue in all this seeming benevolence, because such is the nature

Moral beauty.

Night.

The sick child.

of the tie, by which the father and the mother are bound to their household, that the faithful discharge of their own domestic duties is the way to secure the highest and purest happiness to themselves. It is so, undoubtedly; and it is the very moral beauty which we have been endeavoring to point out, that in a case of such universal application, the human heart is such, that it can find, and does find, its own purest and highest enjoyment, in unceasing efforts to promote the enjoyment of others.

Thus the day passes on in our peaceful, quiet village: the evening brings recreations of various kinds; some indeed seek guilty pleasures, but far the greater number find happiness at home. Night brings universal repose, the members of each family sleeping quietly under their own roof," with none to molest or make them afraid." Or if there is a solitary one, who prowls about at midnight, to steal, or burn, or kill, he is but one among a thousand, a rare and abhorred exception to the general rule.

Perhaps, however, under one roof there is sickness A pale and feeble child, who has been a source of unceasing anxiety and trouble to his parents, from his very birth, lies in his little couch, restless and feverish, under an attack of some new disease.

Mother, your sleep has been disturbed enough by its restlessness and its cries. Carry it away to some remote apartment, and leave it there, to moan alone under its sufferings, so that you may sleep, for once, undisturbed. If it should die before the morning, you will only be relieved of a continual and heavy burden.”. Father, leave the little sufferer to its fate. You will then sleep quietly through the night, and the necessity for toil will be diminished on the morrow. Why should you take such pains, and bear such watching and such fatigue for this child? Even if he lives, he will never

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